


Come Back To Me

by Bug_jpeg



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Darkiplier is kindof a yandere oops, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bug_jpeg/pseuds/Bug_jpeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark entity has began to manifest itself and Antisepticeye needs to escape. With the help of Wilford Warfstache, Anti manages to turn Jack and Mark's world on its side for his own personal gain. But when the darkness begins to creep closer, Anti is running out of options, and the YouTubers feel like they might not make it out alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call That Started It All

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just an idea I had while I was doing homework. I hope you enjoy :)

The woman's scream had been abruptly ceased by a bullet piercing her chest, and she fell backwards onto the floor with a thud. No more voices echoed through the house, the only sounds being the chiming of an old grandfather clock and the footsteps of the woman's killer. His heels softly clicked against the hardwood floor, the occasional step muted by a splash of blood. Normally, he hated to get his shoes dirty, but the house was too dark for him to see anything and he was too far gone to care. The murder weapon was tucked back into the sleeve of his pinstriped suit and he adjusted his bright pink bow tie before letting out a happy sigh.

"Finally. I thought she would never shut up." His gruff voice contradicted his over the top demeanor horribly. The man had every aspect of an overactive interviewer, his questionably bright fashion choices with dyed pink hair and a mustache to match only made things worse. This living eyesore was given the title 'Wilford Warfstache', a name that easily rolled off the tongue. He wasn't very well known to the public, despite being a journalist, but the police knew him by name. Murder was his accidental specialty (He was pretty trigger happy) and he embraced it as some kind of secret hobby.

Wilford didn't waste any time in dragging the bodies away from a large, open window. He didn't want any peepers looking in and finding the family before he had time to escape. Something about playing on the police's incompetence filled him with and overwhelming sense of euphoria that kept him coming back to the murder scene. Starting with the youngest child he began dragging the bodies into the kitchen and drawing the curtains as he went. As he was about to transport the heaviest body, there was an aggressive tapping at the open window. On instinct, Wilford drew his gun, ready to add any intruders to his body pile. However, there wasn't anyone on the other side. Instead, there were ripples starting from the center of the window and fluctuating outwards. A vague shape of a head began to manifest itself and Wilford kept his gun drawn. He had extensive experience with the paranormal and needed to be prepared for anything that would come through the portal. When the monstrous entity fully manifested itself, Wilford tucked his gun back away in his sleeve and let a goofy smirk spread across his face.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Anti." Wilford's drawl was more apparent as his voice pitch dropped. Staring back at him was none other than Antisepticeye, the ever-present doppelganger of Jacksepticeye. Wilford had only met him a few months ago when he broke into Jack's apartment and tried to kill him. Despite having an initial desire to murder each other, Wilford and Anti were able to come to a sort of tolerance (Wilford calls it friendship, but Anti disagrees). "Aren't you going to say hello?"

Anti rolled his eyes and shot Wilford a glare. "How many times do I have to tell you, it's pronounced 'An-tie' not 'An-tea'." His voice was a low rumble, almost a growl, and there was an underlying sense of urgency. "Besides the point, I called because I need your help. He's after me again, and I need to get out of my mirror dimension for a while. Jack won't come willingly, I already tried talking to him, so I need you to scare him into his bathroom mirror for me."

Wilford stroked his mustache questioningly and pursed his lips. "Are you sure He's after you? Is there solid evidence to prove it?" Leave it to the journalist to want solid evidence.

"I don't need 'solid evidence'," He used sarcastic air quotes as he said this. "like you petty humans do. I have a hunch, alright? It's been a year since I've properly seen 'im, but I can feel His familiar presence everywhere I go. The feeling is just so..." He trailed off before shaking his head to himself. His green, side swept hair fell over one eye before beginning to speak again. "Are you going t'help me or not?"

A goofy, Cheshire like grin found itself creeping onto Wilford's face. "What else are best friends for?"

Anti gave him the best 'Are You Fucking Kidding Me Right Now' look before his lips contorted into a scowl. "You mean to tell me that you had no idea who I was talking about this entire time? Don't you pay attention to anything I-!" His speech was halted by a loud noise coming from his side of the window and Wilford was tempted to draw his gun yet again. The doppelgangers head whipped around to look over his shoulder and quickly back to the window. His face wore an expression clearly derived from terror. Sweat beads were forming by his hairline and his pupils were so large, Anti's bright green iris' were almost nonexistent. "Like I said before, I don't have time for pointless chatter. We can catch up on all the gory details later. Are you coming t'help me or not?"

"Yes, but who's following you?" The journalist was still demanding answers and clearly wasn't listening to a single word Anti was saying.

"It's not safe for me to tell you while He's still here! I'll explain everything when I get into your dimension." With that, Anti dissapeared from the window portal, leaving a very dumbfounded Wilford alone in the quiet house. He sighed and began dragging the last body into the kitchen.

Wilford Warfstache was headed to Ireland by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So most of the stuff in here for Antisepticeye is loosely based off the headcanons by Marksandrec on tumblr with a few minor differences. You should check out their blog it's super cool :)
> 
> A quick note that I should make for clarification is that windows can't be used for portals, just clean mirrors. They can be used for communication.


	2. Early Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The burning in his body ceased, and Jack realized he was alone.

"And that does it for this reading yer comments video. If you LIKED it, _PUNCH_ that like button _IN_ the face, LIKE A BOSS, _AND_ high fives all around. Wha-psh! Wha-psh! _THANK_ you guys and I will _see all you dudes_...IN THE NEXT VIDEO!"

After leaning back in his chair at the end of the outro and raising his hands up in the air, Jack took a deep breath and reached forward to turn off his camera. Today had been a long, tedious day of work, and it was only noon. There was a lot of catching up and pre-recording to do before he considered himself back on track. In fact, the entire month had consisted of strenuous work days that worked him to the bone, and he was ready for a vacation.

Just as he was plugging in his camera to upload the morning's footage, the familiar tone of a Skype call rang out from his computer. He clicked on the desktop icon and saw Mark's face pop up. Jack clicked the green answer button for a video chat without a second thought and waited for a connection.

"Hey, Jack!" Mark smiled at Jack from the computer screen. Jack could tell that Mark was in his recording room because of how perfect the lighting was, showing off the radiance of Mark's slightly tanned skin, his bright red hair swept over to one side, his deep brown eyes that always looked so inviting...oh and the background was a dead giveaway too. "I hope I'm not interrupting any of your catching up."

Jack felt the familiar feeling of warmth bubbling up in his chest. The way Mark looked at him with such adoration and concern made Jack weak in the knees. He hated Mark for making him feel like a giddy 12 year old, but it wasn't his fault. He didn't know what he was doing to Jack, he was just being his perfect self. Good thing Jack was sitting down or he may have fallen over. "Nah. I actually just finished a video a minute before ye called. What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were still coming down to L.A. next week." Of course he was. Jack had been excited about the trip for months, and it was motivating him to actually get work done. He wanted is time in Los Angeles with Mark to be stress and worry free. "I know what it feels like to be behind, so..." He trailed off, and Jack could feel the tone change in his voice.

"I'm still coming, ya big goober." Jack let out a small chuckle. "I just have to record and edit videos for the days I'm flying back."

A relieved smile found its way to Mark's face and he sighed. "Awesome! I just wanted to make sure I wasn't pressuring you or anything like that."

'Nah, man, it's cool." Awkward silence filled the aching distance between them before Mark cleared his throat. Jack felt a pit begin to form in his stomach. "I know yer anxious to see me. Who could blame ye? I'm an absolute joy to be around!" He was scrambling for a joke to relieve some of the tension that was starting to build.

Luckily, it worked. "Pfft! You wish, Jackaboy!" While him and Mark were both laughing, Jack's doorbell rang out. Surprising to Jack, since he didn't order any food and wasn't expecting any guests. Mark looked confused as well, so he must have heard the ringing too. "I didn't know you were expecting anyone over."

Jack swallowed hard as the doorbell rings became gradually more insistent. "Neither did I." Something about he situation seemed off to Jack and he really didn't want to answer his door, but his neighbors could start to complain. He sighed and gave a quick glance towards the door. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere in case anything happens." With that, he stood up and began walking towards the door.

The doorbell rings eventually became hard pounds, and they matched the rapid pace of Jack's beating heart. His palms were clammy and cold so he clenched his fists tighter. Before Jack could even reach the door, there was a loud crack, causing Jack to take a few steps back in surprise. His door began falter and quake before escaping the door frame that held it and crashing to the floor. "What the-!" In the doorway stood a man barely taller than Jack in a yellow button up dress shirt, grey suspenders holding up tan dress pants, and a pink mustache to match his bow tie. Jack recognized him almost immediately and his eyebrows furrowed together in anger. "Oh _hell_ no! Not this bullshit again!"

"Rude! I thought you would be happy to see little ol' me." Of course Wilford Warfstache was at the door (or lack thereof now), and of course he had to make a grand entrance that would probably end up costing Jack a lot of money in the future. "Now I hope you don't mind if we skip all the formalities, but I'm on an important, urgent mission, so if you would kindly cooperate-"

"No!" Jack started backing away from Wilford, who was now advancing on him, a crowbar twirling in his hands. "I refuse to put up with your shenanigans right now. I've got too much work to do before going to Mark's! I need vacation days too, ye know."

Wilford rolled his eyes and shifted his weight onto one leg. "Ohh, Mark this, Mark that. When do you ever not talk about Mark?" Jack could've sworn the room increased in temperature, and he felt his face flush. He was ready to defend his honor, but Wilford kept talking. "It's important, okay? Anti needs my help to-"

"I don't give a rats _ass_ what he wants!" Wilford pursed his lips when Jack interrupted him again. "My doppelganger can kiss my ass!"

"It's rude to interrupt people, Mr. McLoughlin." Immediately after speaking, Wilford charged towards Jack and pinned him against the nearest wall with the crowbar by his neck. A sickening grin spread across his face as the small Irishman struggled to breathe beneath him. "Your mother never taught you better?" Jack's legs were kicking at his attacker's shins, but he was subdued by a swift knee to the stomach. Jack crumpled to the floor when his neck was released and he looked up to see the journalist smiling menacingly down at him. "Count yourself lucky Antisepticeye needs you alive or I would've finished what I tried to start months ago."

Jack groaned and curled up on his side. He was sure some of his neighbors had heard noises and were rushing to his aid right now, he just had to fight Wilford off long enough to get help. Lord knew how long that endeavor would take. Wilford didn't waste any time dragging Jack to the nearest bathroom, but Jack violently thrashed himself around to prolong what he feared would be the inevitable. With a considerable amount of effort, he managed to hook his legs onto the bathroom door frame.

"Why must you make this so difficult for me?" Wilford drawled while forcefully pulling Jack through by his wrists. His hands grabbed onto the front of Jack's blue hood and yanked him up so they were face to face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could she his reflection in the mirror starting to shift, but he didn't have time to look. Wilford slammed Jack against the wall opposite the mirror with enough force to cause intense throbbing pain, but not enough to break any bones. Jack struggled with Wilford's hands, trying to loosen their grasp on his hood, but the pain in his shoulder was too much, and his arm went limp. His steely blue eyes never broke away from the man in front of him for fear of having to see who was looking at him from the mirror. Wilford's dark brown eyes were cold, unforgiving, and Jack knew he wouldn't be winning this fight. His resolve faded and he squeezed his eyes shut. He let Wilford slam his back onto the bathroom counter and drag him up against the bathroom mirror without much of a fight.

It wasn't until he felt the familiar chill of icy fingers curling around his shoulders and pulling him back that his eyes snapped open and he got his drive back. He managed to deliver a swift kick to Wilford's chest before his body began to burn. A dangerous side effect of crossing into the same dimension as Antisepticeye. They couldn't exist in the same dimension at the same time, so when they did, their bodies felt like they were on fire. Jack had to bite back a cry of anguish bubbling in his gut as the cold hands jerked him the rest of the way back. His back hit another counter, and the burning became more intense. He looked up and his eyes met with a pair of bright green ones. Words were beginning to form on his tongue but his mouth refused to work. His doppelganger just forced a cocky smirk through his own pain and hurled himself over the counter through the mirror, disappearing without a trace.

The burning in his body ceased, and Jack realized he was alone.

************************

"Jesus, that little fucker has some fight in him." Wilford readjusted his bow tie which had been rudely kicked out of place before extending a hand to help Anti off the floor. "It would have been _much_ easier if I could've killed him and just thrown the body through the mirror.

Anti swatted his hand away and pushed himself off the floor with an obviously pained grunt. "If you kill him, I cease to exist, dumb ass. I thought I made that clear the first time you tried."

Wilford scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully before replying."Oh. That's right." He mumbled while dutifully following Anti towards the front door. "But you do know I would never intentionally try to kill you, right darling?"

"Don't call me that." He deadpanned and glared at the door. "Didn't we say something about breaking and entering while leaving obvious evidence?"The sarcastic tone in his gruff voice made Wilford's mustache twitch in annoyance.

"We said it would be 'illegal' because we would get caught," Giant air quotes and an over dramatic sigh were used for accentuation. "But, in my defense, he was taking too long to answer the door. Besides, I was impatient to get answers from you."

"Right...answers." Anti crouched down and lifted the door off the ground, his enhanced strength coming in handy for lodging the door back into its frame. Sure it wasn't very sturdy, but it would have to do for the time being. The two 'men' walked back into Jack's living room without a word, and Anti refused to look Wilford dead in the eye. The reason was unclear to both of them. "You do deserve some kind of explanation." He took a deep breath, but a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Jack? Is everything okay?" Wilford and Anti looked at one another in a bit of a panic. Neither of them had accounted for guests. Quickly, Anti walked in front of the camera and blinked away the reds of his scleroses before putting on his best (fake) smile. There was no way in hell he was going to let that dick Markiplier know what was going on, especially since Mark had a direct link to... _Him_. Can't be too careful.

Anti did his best to hide the possible disdain in his tone. "Hey, Mark! Everything's fine, but I should get back to work. I'll call you later." Mark didn't have time to protest before Anti abruptly ended the Skype call. He rubbed his face with his hands and huffed. When he dropped his hands, Wilford could see the red return to his eyes. "God, I hate doing that. It really fuckin' hurts my eyes."

Wilford didn't respond, instead plopping down on the living room couch and patting the cushion next to him, wordlessly coaxing Anti to sit next to him. It only took a few seconds of initial reluctance before he eventually gave in and sunk into the soft, plushy couch. "Okay." The mustached man sat up straight as a rod. "Tell me all the deliciously gory details."


	3. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you were to ask him about it now, Anti would tell you to be careful what you wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK TOO LONG IM SORRY BUT IM BACK AND ILL HOPEFULLY HAVE MORE CONSISTENT UPDATES FROM NOW ON :0

_Jack doesn't have green eyes._

The thought was practically immediate when the Skype call was abruptly ended. Mark wasn't entirely sure what part of his brain was responsible , but it still unsettled him in more ways than one. Not only did his mind subconsciously remember Jack's eye color, but in order to do so, his brain would have to store a reoccurring long term memory (he learned that from MatPat). That meant Mark stared into Jack's eyes more than he would care to admit. A pit began to form in his chest.

 _If that wasn't Jack, then...who was it?_ That was the dilemma he was now facing. Mark was beginning to feel like his friend was in trouble, but what was he going to do? He was halfway across the world and powerless to do anything without paying a hefty sum of money. _It would be worth it for Jack, just to make sure he was okay. Maybe I could just call him! I can sort this whole mess out._ Without a second thought, Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Jack's number.

"We're sorry, but the person you called has a voice mail box that has not been setup yet. Goodbye." Mark was hung up on and he let an angry and frustrated sigh escape him. Part of him desperately wanted to fly over to Ireland tonight, but the flight was 11 hours long, _and by then_ , Mark thought. _I might be too late_. Not to mention the stress of leaving his channel behind. He needed to check and make sure he had enough videos for an emergency trip. His nerves were buzzing and his hands were trembling. _What if something happened? I can't just_ leave _him!_ Mark eyed the camera on his desk and switched it on. With a deep breath, he put on a happy face and began to speak. Maybe a video would help ease his nerves and make him feel better. Whether or not he was going to post it was a different story.

"Hello, everybody! My name is Markiplier, and I need to talk..."

 ************************

"You mean I never told you about my only ex? Ever?" Anti had been arguing this on the couch with Wilford for the past 10 minutes. "I was almost sure-"

"I swear on my knife I've never heard you speak of a so called 'ex-boyfriend'." The journalist had stopped sitting up straight and was leaned back on the couch with his arms crossed. "My memory is just as good as an elephant's, and you know how they never forget!"

"Right. Just like you remember every other important thing I tell you." The bright green dye in his hair was fading and Anti casually brushed his bangs out of his eyes. He already had enough problems on his plate without the constant reminder to re-dye his hair. He then glanced at Wilford, who was eying him suspiciously. Anti suddenly felt defensive and felt his whole body tense up. "What th' hell are you lookin' at?"

Wilford pursed his lips. "In my many years of being a," he stopped mid sentence to twirl his mustache. " _professional_ interviewer, I've picked up on behavioral traits and become _very_ good at reading people."

Anti cocked an eyebrow. "What's that got to do with anythin'?"

Wilford had a cheeky grin on his face. "It means I know what you're doing. You're stalling."

"What?"

"The reason is unclear to me, but something tells me your ex-boyfriend is a bit of a...touchy subject?" Wilford tilted his head towards Anti, who in turn recolied and turned away with a salty eye-roll. A sour expression settled on his face, causing Wilford to pout. "If you don't want to tell me-"

All Wilford saw was a flash of green when Anti snapped his head around and hissed. "It's _fine_. I'm fine." He regained his composure by taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders. "There's no issue and I'm _not_ stallin'."

"You men arguing for 10 minutes isn't stalling?"

"Do you want answers or not?" Wilford closed his mouth and made a motion of zipping his lips together. "Thank you. So..." Anti cleared his throat. "It was about 5 years ago I believe..."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Actually, it was about 6 years ago to the day.

The foggy air was crisp and cold, the perfect kind of weather for moping around and sulking, which just so happened to be Antisepticeye's favorite pastime. He was almost the exact definition of a scene kid, minus the heavy 'guyliner'. His wardrobe wasn't very colorful, save for the light green and dark blue hoodie he was currently wearing. A hood was over his head of brown hair and tightened around his face, obscuring his view. All the faces he passed were ones he passed everyday, and he was so sick of it. A new face was all he wanted, something new to spice up his life and change his outlook on the dreary, backwards world he lived in. He craved a rush of adrenaline, the fear of uncertainty, which he hadn't felt since he accidentally switched places with his 'reflection' as a teen. Ever since then, let's just say he became self aware.

Needless to say, if you were to ask him about it now, Anti would tell you to be careful what you wish for.

As he was about to walk into his favorite café, the exact same café he went to everyday, he saw a lone figure at his table who was hunched over to keep his face hidden from passerbys. Anyone who lived in this dimension had a strict schedule and always stayed in the same routine, so why was this guy sitting in _his_ seat at _his_ table? While there was the illusion of choice here, Anti knew no one made their own decisions, had their own feelings, not even him. Putting on a scowl, he walked into the café and sat down across from the man.When the mysterious stranger didn't show any signs of recognition, Anti cleared his throat. "Excuse me, bu I-"

The stranger looked up, and suddenly Anti's ability to breathe had been vanquished. Between all the faces he passed on a day to day basis, he had never seen one so...captivating? His eyes locked with the stranger, sickening green meeting pure white, and Anti forgot he was in the middle of a sentence. By the time he regained himself, the stranger beat him to the punch.

"You what?" Oh god, Anti was in despair. Anything this stranger did seemed to be perfect in every way ,from his eyes, to his voice, and _that hair_. A fluffy mess, but still gorgeous none the less. It didn't take Anti long to realize this is what his life had been missing. The exhilaration he had been desperately seeking. He couldn't screw this up. "Sorry, you stopped to abruptly. Is there something on my face?"

Flirting mode: activate. "Yeah, boyfriend material. I mean-" Anti could feel the sweat beads forming on his pale forehead. "wait. Shit. I got lost lookin' when you fell from heaven? I need to arrest you for stealin' because it's illegal to look that fine-god damn it! Uh..." _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Anti cursed his lack of interaction with the general populous, because his impressive social skills were really helping him now. "Can I...start over?"

The stranger began to laugh, a soft but gentle sound that sounded much nicer than anything Anti had ever heard. "I don't think you have to. I got the gist of it." His eyes flickered away for a second as he combed a hand through his dark hair absentmindedly. "So, you think I'm cute, huh?" His tone of voice had grown cocky, and Anti started to feel anxious.

"Well, that wasn't what I was going to say. I was planning to tell you that you're sitting in the wrong seat."

"There's assigned seating in a café?"

"No, that's not what I..." Anti searched for some sign of a joke. This guy was being totally serious. "Dude, were you born yesterday?"

"Of course not. It's been at least a few years."

Anti was too dumbfounded to give a quick witted reply. This guy had only existed for a few years, but he looked about 21, a year older than himself. There was no way this stranger was any kind of doppelganger then, because if that were the case, he should have been a week old baby. "What _are_ you?"

"Don't you know it's rude to ask that of someone on the first date." _Crap, I didn't mean to say that out loud._ He covered up his mental slip with a scowl.

"This isn't a date."

"Were you not flirting with me moments ago?" This stranger, under Anti's scrutinizing eyes and further inspection, had skin that was a light shade of... _grey_. Anti's hands gripped the sides of his chair with sudden sick realization. The monster who sat in front of him noticed his apprehension and flashed him a cool smirk. "So, you finally figured it out, huh? Guess that means our little play date is over."

Anti couldn't peel his hands away from the chair no matter how badly he wanted to run away. "I know what you are, and what the rest of your kind has done. You feed on the deep seeded corruption and insecurities of people on th' 'other side' until you can forcefully take over their body and kill them. So, tell me, what's a miserable shadow creature doin' this far in town?" The sweat pouring off his body made his hands sticky, and Anti could feel confidence bubbling in his stomach.

"Now, I did say I haven't existed for very long, didn't I? If I really had interest in doing such distasteful things, wouldn't I have done so by now?" He leaned forward across the tiny café table causing Anti to instinctively lean back. "And I do have a name. If you have any desire to be with me or have any sort of respect for me, you should use it."

The stranger's white eyes were so enticing, and Anti couldn't help himself feeling disgusted and fascinated all at once. Not only was this monster implying that Anti had some sort of _crush_ on him ~~which he _definitely did_~~ and demanding respect, but his attitude was nothing like what was to be expected of his kind. Anti found himself lost in his own thoughts for some time, drowning in them with no hope for escape. The more he stayed silent, the more it seemed the stranger was luring him ever closer. No matter what Anti tried to do, the erratic beating of his heart would betray him. Something about this creature was so fascinating, and the doppelganger wanted to learn more. This moment was going to make or break this relationship, and the shadow creature placed everything on the table. It was Anti's move.

"What should I call you, then?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Wilford pursed his lips again and fiddled with his mustache. "I'm confused, dear. Why is this creature chasing you?"

Anti rolled his eyes and slumped into the couch. He mumbled something inaudible, which piqued Wilford's curiosity. With a sly grin, he convincingly faked a yawn and stretched his arm over the top of the couch behind his green-eyed friend. A negative response was expected, but Anti didn't move or say a word of protest. The bags under his eyes seemed more prominent now, and Wilford deduced he was too tired to give a shit. The two continued to sit like that in silence before Anti spoke again, cohesively this time. "I wish I could tell you why he was after me. I know we didn't exactly eave on good terms, but I broke all contact with him 2 years ago. I had to change everything just to get away. Thank god Jack dyed his hair green. Even still..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "It's not important. I'm on this side of the mirror for now, and as long as Mark isn't incompetent, we'll be safe from my pursuer."

Wilford gave Anti a quizzical look. "What do you mean, _we_? I'm not the one being chased here, you are." He giggled like a giddy little school girl. "Did you just admit to _caring_ about me?" Every syllable in the word 'caring' was dragged out, as per Wilford's dramatic nature, and to get any kind of reaction from Anti. Even still, he didn't move. Anti's expression was tense and his jaw was clenched so tight, a pencil could break between his teeth.

"That pitiful creature I had the joy of 'dating' has done some terrible things to good people. If he comes here, I care about him not kicking your pink, fluffy ass before I get the pleasure to." His tight lips slowly pulled into a smirk. "But if you want to try and fight him off if he gets here, I won't stop you."

"Is that a challenge?"

"More like a death wish."

"Let us make a formal agreement, then, that if this monster comes anywhere near you, I get first dibs."

"That's fair." Anti chuckled. "While he beats the crap out of you, I'll be hauling ass to the nearest country."

Wilford pouted. "You're so rude!"

Anti rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "And you're crazy." He crossed his arms comfortably in front of his chest and he leaned back, only to feel an arm on the back of the couch slowly making its way towards his shoulders. " _Wilford_."

The journalist gave him a quizzical look. "Yes, dear?"

"Arm. Shoulder. Off. Now." He spoke sharply through gritted teeth and Wilford reluctantly removed his arm. "Now, where was I?"

************************

"Thanks, Ryan. I'll talk to you later when I land." Mark hung up the phone and got to work checking the preparations for his emergency trip to Ireland. His bags were packed and waiting for him by the front door, he was adorned with his lucky flannel, his breath was minty fresh, and Chica had enough food to last at least a week. Just to check his hair for the last time, Mark dipped his head into the bathroom and noticed something (for lack of a better word) off about his reflection. The normal brown of his eyes seemed darker than usual. He took a few cautious steps into the room to inspect himself, changed his mind, and quickly turned to leave, but the door to the bathroom slammed shut on its own. In a sudden panic, Mark tried to open the door, but it was jammed shut. When his eyes darted back to the mirror, a sickening wave of familiarity washed over him, and he felt like throwing up. "No, no! Not now! What the hell are you doing here?"

A dark grey, shadowy figure was taking the place of Mark's reflection in the now foggy mirror. The thick black smoke that was once surrounding the figure dispersed to reveal an all too familiar face. _His_ face, to be more precise. It felt like Mark was looking at a carbon copy of himself from years ago. "Hello, Mark. Miss me much? I know it's been a while." His voice was deep, but smooth and he flashed a smile so pure white, Mark's ass glasses would have been nice to keep himself from being blinded.

"Why are you here, Dark?"

"Because," Darkiplier scoffed. "I'm in need of assistance."


End file.
